


Forget-Me-Not

by Night_song



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, I sense a blossoming friendship between sam and cas, M/M, SPN - Freeform, Sam has hallucinations and stuff, Supernatural - Freeform, also dean and cas are sloww bbys, but is still himself and will take no shit, cas owns a flower shop!, except for in poor sammy's head, no supernatural beings, protective!Dean, theyll catch on eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-27
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-04-01 11:21:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4017856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Night_song/pseuds/Night_song
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every week since the car crash, Dean goes to the flower shop down the street from Sam's hospital to buy something to brighten up his room, 'cause hey, Sammy likes pansy crap like that. And if the owner of said flower shop is both hot and sensative... well that's just an added bonus.</p>
<p>or</p>
<p>The one where Sam slips in and out of coherency because the brain damage resulting from the car crash causes vivid hallucinations about ghosts, demons, and hunters. Dean will stand by his brother until the end of time, and if a bit of romance is in the cards as well, maybe its time something went right for them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forget-Me-Not

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is a short chapter that I wrote when this idea first hit me over the head with inspiration two-by-four. This story could possibly have more chapters based soley on your guyses reactions, otherwise it will stay a one shot. Let me know what you think!

       “Dean, I don’t want you to… please don’t misunderstand,” Cas began uncertainly. “It’s pleasant, seeing you every week. But I can’t help wondering why you come. Every Thursday you come to my shop, and I’m just curious, I guess, about what for?” Cas let his eyes drop to the floor, but seconds later they had flicked back up to Dean’s face. Dean could see that, under a carefully constructed layer of causality, there was a sweet concern. He thought that went slightly beyond the curiosity that would crop up in a business to customer relationship. Or maybe he was just forcing his hopes onto other people again.

       Dean gently set down the vase of bright daffodils he had been considering. “Well, you know, since this is a flower shop, I usually come to buy flowers…”  he said, feigning a judgmental look. Cas’ eyes widened and he blushed while correcting himself.

       “No! I mean, I knew that. I just meant… I mean, I had just wondered…” Dean laughed.  

       “I’m messing with you, buddy. I know what you meant.”

       “Oh,” said Cas simply, letting his eyebrows pull together. Dean’s smile faded.  

       “My brother is in the hospital,” he said slowly.

       “Sam?” asked Cas, “Or do you have other siblings?”

       “No, you’re right. Sam is my only brother, and we don’t have any sisters.”

       “Oh. You talk about Sam often, but I didn’t realize he was in the hospital.”

       “I never told you. I don’t really like to dredge it up in conversation.”

       “Oh! I’m sorry, Dean. Of course you don’t have to tell me if-”

       “No no, its okay. Its a long story is all. I don’t mind talking about it, its just a lot to explain the whole thing. See, he’s been there for a while now. A month or two ago, he was in a real bad car wreck.” Dean could feel his eyes wanting to mist up, so he pushed away the flashbacks of broken glass and an ambulance stained with his brother’s blood, hurrying through the next part. “I had… I was driving and it was my…” Dean stopped and swallowed. “anyway, I healed up, but he hit his head pretty bad. He’s in and out of comas, and when he’s awake, he just… its all nonsense. Wendigos, ghosts, demons…” he gave a short laugh. “He’s been up these last couple of days, and he’s got this imaginary girlfriend named Ruby that he won’t shut up about.”

       Cas’ eyes had been growing more and more concerned. His fingers twitched like he wanted to reach out and touch Dean, but thought better of it. Impossibly, Dean’s arm seemed a little bit colder where he thought Cas might have placed his hand.

       “Me and him, we’re all we’ve got.” Dean added quietly. “N’ all I can do for him is bring him flowers every week,” he finished in a bitter tone.

       “Dean,” Cas’ soft voice pulled him from his moment of self pity. “I’m sure that… and I hope I am not being presumptuous when I say this, but I am sure it means more to him than you realize.” A tiny warmth lit inside of Dean for a moment, and he felt his lips lift a little.  

       “Well thanks,” he said. He wasn’t one to worry about words too much, so he locked his gaze with Cas’s and hoped some of the sincerity had been conveyed. Castiel, for his part, pretended not to notice the quickening of his own pulse. He smiled back at Dean.

       There was a pause.

       “And, well I don’t come to just buy the flowers,” Dean admitted. He went to put his hand in his pocket and missed. He gave a slightly awkward smile and played it off as wiping something on his jeans; his hands were suddenly sweating anyway, so it worked out. “I mean, I thought about just buying, you know, a potted plant for his room. It would have been easier, but I…” he considered backing out of his advance in a moment of panic, but forced himself to go on, “I like being here. With… the flowers.” You. Damn it. He’d meant to say “with you”. Oh well. He’d made it farther than he had last time.

       “I do as well,” said Cas, oblivious to Dean’s embarrassment. He was smiling at the bright room around them, or more specifically the flowers that filled it. Cas pulled off his grey gardening gloves and slapped them together to remove the dirt. He gently stroked a little purple flower from a crisply wrapped bouquet on the shelf to his left. “They have a very calming aura,” Cas continued. “And they’re surprisingly like people. Affection is nearly as vital as sunlight to them. Did you know that flowers grow better if you talk to them?”

       “I think I’ve heard that somewhere,” Dean said. It sounded like something Sam had told him at some point. “Do you talk to them? The potted ones?” he asked Cas, trying to imagine the scene.

       “Well, I read to them,” Cas specified. “Usually just the newspaper. The happy stories are what I like best. This morning I read to them about a cat that saved a little boy from an attacking dog. The classifieds are good too.” Before Dean could ask why Cas would want to read the classifieds every day, the guitar riff of his ringtone interrupted their conversation. Dean pulled out his phone and glanced at the screen; it was Sam.

       “Its my brother,” Dean explained as he hit the talk button. Cas nodded and took a step or two back. “Hey Sam,” Dean said.

       “Hey. You still at that florists?”

       “Yeah. What’s up?”

       “Well, I was hoping you could pick us up something to eat on your way here when you come.”

       “Isn’t that against the rules or something?”

       “C’mon man. They’re trying to feed me meatloaf.” Dean smiled.

       “What, that's bad? Meatloaf is good.”

       “Not hospital meatloaf,” Sam snorted. “I need some outside food. Seriously. I know you could sneak some in for me.”

       “Speaking of sneaking around, aren’t you not supposed to have your cell? How’d you get it back?” There was a pause.

       “I went on a… recon mission.” Sam admitted. Dean whistled.

       “Wow, Sammy. Stealing back your cell phone, wanting me to sneak in poisonous outside food… don’t you have any respect for the rules? They’re put in place to protect you, you know that right?” Dean could practically hear the Sam's exasperated face over the line through the silence. After a minute, he broke and chuckled a bit. “Yeah, okay. I’ll pick you something up. How does a caesar salad sound?”

       “Amazing,” Sam said with notable enthusiasm. “Hold the dressing-”

       “-and no cheese. I know.” For the first time since Dean had answered the phone, Cas spoke up.

       “I’m also about to head to lunch. So I suppose I’ll see you next week, Dean.” Dean went to reply, but Sam cut him off.

       “Was that the florist? The one you keep talking about?”

       “Yeah…” Dean said hesitantly.

       “He said he was going to lunch, right? Bring him over with you. I want to meet him.”

       “What? No!” Dean said vehemently.

       “Lemme talk to him.”

       “No! No way. I’m not gonna let you-”

       “Then you invite him! His name is Castiel, right?” There was a pause. “Well, anyway, with all you talk about him, I’ve really been wanting to meet him. Lunch will be perfect.” Dean sighed. It really wasn’t a bad idea. He abandoned his last reserves and looked Cas in the eyes. The man had been staring at him for a few moments, his head tilted slightly to the side, his eyes narrow and curious.

       “My brother was wondering…” he stopped; that wasn’t right. “I mean, Sam and I both,” that was better, “were wondering if you felt like coming to hospital for lunch.” Dean left it at that. There was more he wanted to say or maybe explain, but he held back. If he kept talking, he was liable to make the situation even more awkward.

       Castiel, however, didn’t seem to think it awkward at all. He smiled slowly but brightly. “If you are sure I would not be intruding, I would love to.” Cas walked to few short steps to the coat hanger on the wall, its faded green hooks in the shape of upside down watering cans. He grabbed a long tan overcoat from one hook and shrugged it on, not bothering to button it up. He turned back to Dean, who had followed him. “To be honest, I wasn’t sure how I could ask without seeming too forward, but with all you talk about your brother, I’ve really been wanting to meet him. Lunch-”

       “-will be perfect?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. Castiel grinned.

       “Yes. I was just going to say that,” he replied, then headed for the door.

 

 


End file.
